


Battle Lights

by NotAGhost3



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Lights, Christmas Romance, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Modern AU, One Shot, Romance, christmas light battle, its a hallmark movie lets be honest, talks about grief, unmasking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAGhost3/pseuds/NotAGhost3
Summary: Christine has always had the best Christmas light display of her entire neighborhood, but when a new guy moves in across the street he threatens to take all of that away from her...Modern AU.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 14
Kudos: 41





	Battle Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I was hoping to have the "Home for Christmas" update out by today, but alas, it is not finished yet. BUT this is my FAVORITE thing I've ever written, and it was my Christmas story I posted a few years ago over on FFN! It's originally meant to be a three-shot, but it reads just fine as a oneshot too!

_I'm dreaming...of a white...Christmas..._

Christine huffed and puffed as she hauled yet _another_ box of Christmas lights from her attic as her music app— which was on the phone currently stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans— played on in the background. She set the tattered cardboard box on top of three other tubs she had pulled down before pausing to change the song to something more fast paced-

She needed motivation if she was ever going to beat _him_.

Her eyes narrowed just at the thought.

For as long as she had lived on Meadow Street, her house _always_ had the best Christmas light display of the entire street. Even when she was a little girl, constantly moving from state to state, her father had always made sure that they had Christmas lights on their house or door to their apartment.

The _best_ Christmas lights.

It just wasn't Christmas without them.

However, she had run into a problem these past few days: her new across the street neighbor also had a fascination for Christmas lights. And not just any Christmas lights—

The _best_ Christmas lights.

Christine could feel the anger boiling inside of her.

He moved in a week before Halloween and the outside of his house had been decked out in decorations. Spiders, skeletons, pumpkins, strobe lights….you name it he had it. She should've realized what a pain he would turn out to be then. Everyone had fawned over his decor, but he wasn't home on Halloween so his house was closed to trick or treaters— and Christine for that matter— meaning that his identity remained a mystery to everyone on the street. All except for the fact that he was a man of course.

The previous owner only ever said that a 'man' was moving in and they were moving out.

Which really didn't help Christine.

She hadn't given him and his decorations much thought until Thanksgiving night when she went out to put some final touches on her lights only to see his house _covered_ in strings of lights, all blinking different colors.

She hadn't even seen him put them up.

He was good. A little _too_ good.

 _Wizards in Winter_ began playing from her phone speakers as Christine ground her teeth and stood up, trying to imagine her neighbor's face— which was hard because she had never seen it— when he saw the lights that she was going to add. With a triumphant smile, Christine stood up with a box of lights in her hand, and carried them out of the garage and on to the front porch of her house. She wasn't about to be bested by a newbie on the block; she had a reputation to uphold! Christmas light displays were _her_ thing. _Her_ passion, _her_ fifteen seconds of fame, _her_ life.

And she wasn't about to let her stupid, show-off neighbor stand in her way.

* * *

"And…there," Christine whispered to herself as she took a few steps back to admire her handiwork. She had added more lights to her porch and had managed to wrap the single tree in her front yard completely with blue lights. Yes, _this_ was going to be hard to top.

She couldn't wait until nighttime so she light it up and blow away her neighbor's display!

The last time she had added more decorations— which was two nights ago— the man across the street had responded with _four_ inflatables (Santa Claus, a reindeer in a hot cocoa mug, the grinch, and a snowman) _and_ a set of those stupid green and red laser lights.

 _Ugh, stick to the traditional way, doofus…_ she had thought, much preferring the old fashioned way of just straight up Christmas lights.

But in the meantime, she had another plan of action to accomplish. Christine pulled her coat tighter around herself and glanced back at the house across the street. She was determined to find out who this infernal man was and why he couldn't just leave her alone and let her do her lights in peace. She took a deep breath and gathered all of her courage up before walking across the street to stand on his porch.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

No answer.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Nothing.

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!_

Nope.

Christine pursed her lips. Someone had to be home, the light was clearly on in the window!

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Christine started. "Hellooooo!" Christine yelled, knocking on the door. This was a move she would never dare do under any other circumstances, but this was dire. Big Christmas lights were _her_ thing and she was not sharing.

The door flew open and hand shot out and caught her wrist mid-knock.

"Shut up, are you trying to draw the attention of the entire neighborhood?"

Christine gasped at the hand that was stuck out the door, however she quickly regained her gusto.

"Let go of my hand!" she nearly shrieked.

"Shhh!" The door opened wider and the man let go of Christine's wrist.

Christine froze as her eyes met the pair on the other side of the door frame. Golden eyes that seemed to shine back at her from underneath a black, leather mask. The man was tall. Much taller than her and _so_ _skinny._

"What do you want?" the man finally said, one hand still firmly on the door knob.

Christine swallowed and then went to speak but found that all her words had escaped her. She had been imagining a lot of things, a balding, elderly man, a middle aged man with a couple kids running around, heck- even a fraternity boy like her good friend Raoul.

But this?

She hadn't mentally prepared herself to be quite this intimidated.

"Well?"

Christine blinked. "Um…I just wanted to come introduce myself and say that I'm Christine Daaé and I live across the street and um…nice Christmas lights?" she stammered nervously out.

The man cocked his head. "Thanks." And with that he went to shut the door.

 _No, no, no!_ Christine thought. _I'm going to loose my chance!_

"Wait!" Christine stopped him, putting a hand on his door to prevent him from closing it.

There was a pause and then the door opened, slower this time.

The man stood, arms crossed and bored look in his eyes as if he'd rather be doing _anything_ else.

"Actually, that's not why I knocked on your door. I…um…Christmas lights are my thing!" she said all at once.

The man blinked and then shifted his weight. "I'm sorry, what?"

Christine took a deep breath. She wasn't about to let him take the lead in this conversation. "I don't know who you are or why you're set on out-doing me, but this is my territory. I just think it is very rude for you to just come out of nowhere and try to up me at my own game."

At this, he laughed.

 _Laughed_!

Christine was gaining back her anger. "I'm sorry, is this funny to you?"

"How about you go back across the street and leave me alone, huh? I'll do my lights and you can do yours. Last time I checked, it wasn't illegal to put up Christmas lights," he suggested, uncrossing his arms.

"That's not how this works. I've lived here for six years and every year I have the best lights on the street. It's _my_ thing. You can't just waltz in and try to take that from me—which you won't—"

"Listen kid—"

"I'm not a kid."

"I didn't put out my lights to hurt your ego. However….maybe it is about time you had a little healthy competition. Because it certainly doesn't seem like you've ever had any from anyone on this street from the looks of it." He smirked as he took a step forward.

Christine narrowed her eyes. "You know what, maybe it is."

Erik nodded his head and then stuck out his hand.

"Oh no, I'm not making a deal with someone I don't even know. You can shove your deal up-"

"Erik. The name's Erik Destler."

Christine raised and eyebrow and finally delivered the insult she had been waiting to say the whole conversation. "Well, _Erik_ _Destler_ , apparently no one told you that Halloween ended a month ago because you're still wearing a mask—"

Erik had reached out of the door frame and grabbed her by both of her wrists.

"Don't _ever_ say anything about this mask. Because next time you do I'll be sure that you won't have the eyes to see it again. Do you understand me?"

Christine nodded and wiggled her hands out from his grasp.

"So," Erik sniffed as he held out his hand again, "do we have a competition?"

_Don't do it, Christine, don't do it, you're making a deal with the devil—_

"Deal."

* * *

After her little encounter with her new neighbor, Christine had been working double time to add even more lights and decorations to her house. Now the poles on her front porch were wrapped with alternating red and white lights to look like candy canes, not to mention that she had climbed up on her ladder and strung dozens of strands of bright, flashy, multi-colored LED lights to her roof in addition to all the white lights that were already up there. Night had come and she saw Erik's house light up with all his stupid blow-ups and laser lights.

It was her time to shine.

Literally.

She ran inside through her front door and double checked that the timer was set— it was, only a few more minutes until it would turn the lights on— and then settled in her living room, watching out the window at Erik's house.

Never in her life had she met anyone so rude and ignorant to her feelings, even her ex-boyfriend had been nicer than he had been. And so secretive! Why else would he hide in his house and wear a mask around to meet guests unless he had something to hide? Whatever the reason, Christine was willing to add it to her list of things that stirred up her drive to make her light display better than his.

Suddenly, her window lit up and she could see all of her lights that were in her yard light up as well as the glow of the lights that were on top of her house that she couldn't see from the inside.

 _He's gotta be impressed by this_ , Christine thought with a smirk.

Then Erik did the unthinkable.

One minute his house is the same lights as it was the night before and the next his garage is lit up with lights in the shape of the word "Merry Christmas!"

Christine's jaw dropped.

She would've been fine if it had ended there, but it got worse.

_Much worse._

The red and green lights that spelled out the words "Merry Christmas!" switched out to spell the words "Joyeux Noël!" and then alternated between the two phrases every few seconds.

When did he have the time to do that?! She had been outside nearly all day and not once had she seen him go outside and add more lights. He was sneaky.

Very sneaky indeed.

And as the words continued to blink across the street at her, Christine had only one thought on her mind:

_She had to beat Erik Destler._

* * *

"Meg—"

_Thud!_

"I just don't think—"

_Thud!_

"I have the time this year—"

_Thud!_

"I'm really, very busy."

_Thud!_

Christine paused for a moment in her endeavors to readjust the phone that was cradled between her ear and neck. She had managed to find an ancient Santa Claus figure that lit up — once the burnt out bulbs were replaced— in her basement which she figured Judy Valerius had left behind when she had moved out a few years ago to retire to a nice beach condo. The only problem was that it was _so_ _heavy_. Christine grunted as she pulled again. She was only about half way up the stair case, the heavy decoration thudding against the edge of the steps each time she managed to get it to move. This was gonna take awhile….

But it was worth it.

 _"But you do it every year, Chris! Think of how much those kids love it, and the parents love it, and the studio sponsors love it!"_ Her best friend's voice broke her out of her thoughts and brought her back into the present.

"I know, but—"

_"No buts about it! You are going to sing! It won't be The Nutcracker without you."_

Christine sighed. Meg owned a dance studio in town and every year they put on The Nutcracker ballet, and every year she opened the program by singing a song or two. It was tradition, but she couldn't this year. Not with stupid Erik Destler across the street to worry about. She was still fuming about the previous night's Christmas lights and she just didn't feel like singing. He had added _so many lights—_ Christmas trees made of light strands that blinked between blue and white, multi colored lights that had overtaken his garage to frame his "Merry Christmas; Joyeux Noël" crap (Who even spoke French that would live in this neighborhood?), covered his bushes in red lights and etc., etc., etc.— and she was desperately grasping on to any decorations she could find.

Why couldn't Meg understand how important this was to her?

"Meg…I know how much this means to you—"

" _So you'll do it?"_

Deep breath.

"That's not what I was going to say. I just have these Christmas lights to worry about and that's taking up most of my time. I wouldn't even have time to practice."

 _"You can practice while you put them up. You know, like in Snow White. Whistle while you work! Just sing while you work in this case…..And I don't know why you're so concerned with your lights this year. One, they are always amazing, and two, it's not like it's a competition. You're just doing it for fun!"_ Meg's cheery voice said from the other side, oblivious to the fact that there _was_ a competition and that Christine was _determined_ to win it.

"About that…there actually is a competition," Christine said, instantly regretting it.

_"What? Really? Is the whole street in on it? Because if so, someone forgot to tell me about it…not that I'd win compared to your house—"_

"No, Meg, not like that. It's just between me and my across the street neighbor," she answered back quickly before Meg could spread her assumptions to the whole town.

_"You mean that creepy new guy across the street from you?"_

"Yep, that's the one…" Christine said as she began to pull on the Santa Claus figure again, thankful that it hadn't fallen down the staircase and broke. _Yet_. Not that it would break anyway. The floor had a better chance of busting in Christine's opinion.

_"Oh…well good luck with that, I've seen his decorations the past couple times I've drove down that end of the street and they're pretty good."_

Christine groaned. "Thanks for the encouragement."

_"You know I didn't mean it like that, Chris…I'll tell you what. I'll reach out to all of my dancer's families and see if they have any spare Christmas lights and decorations they'd be willing to let you borrow—"_

"Really? You'd do that for me? Meg!" Christine 'awwed' into the phone.

_Thud!_

Up another step.

 _"Of course I would. What are friends for? But…only if you agree to sing at Nutcracker._ "

And there was the catch.

Christine was silent for a moment as she considered her options. If she sang that meant she'd be sacrificing what little time she had available to decorate _and_ she'd have to find songs to sing. But if she _didn't_ sing then she might lose out on decorations that could put her house over the top and win her the competition….

"Okay…I'll sing….but only one song and I would need the decorations here by Wednesday. That gives you four days to get them over here.," Christine finally said, not sure whether she should be happy or regretful of her decision.

_"You've got it! I'll rally the troops. In the meantime though, you get to practicing. The ballet is only a week away!"_

"December 23rd. Yeah I know, I know."

" _You're the best, Chrissie! Bye!"_

"Bye, Meg," Christine said as she maneuvered the phone to hang up, hoping that her one arm was strong enough to hold up the Santa Claus in the two seconds it took her to stuff her phone back in her pocket. With another grunt she got him over another step. She looked over her shoulder towards her open basement door and counted the remaining stairs.

Five.

 _Great_.

* * *

The Santa Claus figure had finally been pulled from the bowels of the basement and Christine had it set next to the two brick steps that led to her front porch.

"There now, that's not so bad," Christine said as she turned to plug it into the extension cord—

 _Hmph_.

No extension cord.

Christine got up and looked around, seeing if there was a spare one lying around, but of course all the ones she owned were in use at the moment. Was old Santa really worth it…?

She looked across the street at Erik's house, all covered in it's lights and blow-ups.

_Worth it._

Christine gave a quick nod and then dashed inside to grab her car keys before returning outside to head to her garage. She was punching in the code to open the garage door when a huge UPS truck pulled into her driveway. She stopped in her tracks. She hadn't ordered anything. She had purchased her gifts months ago, they were all sitting wrapped in her living room waiting to be passed out. However, Christine was still curious as the driver hopped out with a large package that hid his torso and head, and half jogged up to her.

"Sorry, running a bit behind today— here's your package, Miss, uh.…" the postman paused to peek his head around the box to look at the label, "Destler!" he called out before setting it by her feet and turning to hurry back to his truck.

Christine wanted to correct him, to tell him that was most certainly _not_ her name, but the words died on her lips as he drove away. Christine looked down at the shipping label.

_Decorations Express._

_E. Destler._

Well, she didn't exactly have to go the store at that very moment, and the neighborly thing to do would to be to run it across the street to him. After all, it wouldn't hurt to do a little snooping in her neighbors yard to see what he was planning next….

_Stop it, Christine! That's not playing fair!_

But still, the idea of it tempted her.

After stuffing her car keys into her pocket, she picked up the box— which was actually lighter than she expected— and walked across to his house. She stood on his porch, box still in hand, right outside of his front door. She thought about knocking and telling him that she'd received his package by mistake, but last time she knocked things hadn't gone spectacularly to say the least.

_I should just leave it here and go back…_

But a part of her _wanted_ to knock. A part of her _wanted_ to look into his eyes and tell him that he was going down and that he could take his lights and blowups and shove them where the sun didn't shine and that the fact that Christmas lights were sentimental to her would ultimately give her the high ground and—

"What are you doing with my mail?"

Christine froze as she met the golden hue of her neighbor's eyes for the second time.

"Um…the mailman delivered it to my house by mistake," Christine muttered, at a loss for words. Why was she always such a blubbering idiot around him?

"Likely story," Erik grumbled as he wrapped his arms around the box, taking it from Christine. "If I had any sense I'd turn you in for theft."

Christin stood there, mouth agape. "How dare you accuse me of something like that! I may be a lot of things, but a thief is not one of them. I don't want your Christmas decorations anyway, I have my own and they're a dozen times better than whatever you've in got in your box." Christine crossed her arms and took a step forward.

"Oh really?" Erik scoffed, readjusting the box.

"Yeah, you just wait. I have something up my sleeve that's gonna blow you away."

She had nothing up her sleeve.

"I'm sure," he dead panned before continuing. "How about this. I'll give you a few days to catch up to me so that we're on even playing ground," Christine rolled her eyes at that, "and then we'll decide which house looks the best, let's say by….December twenty-fourth?"

"Christmas Eve?" Christine asked, slightly taken aback.

Erik shrugged. "Why not?"

Christine shrugged too. "Oh I don't know, maybe because it's the most magical, sacred night of the year maybe?"

"I mean if you're too scared of the cut off date…."

"Oh shut it…I'll be ready," Christine shot back.

She was cutting it a bit close with her Nutcracker performance, but she could do it, it'd be fine.

"Until then, " Erik said with usual cockiness.

Christine nodded as Erik turned and shut the door behind him, leaving her alone on the porch.

"It's on."

* * *

"Meg, I cannot thank you enough, these are perfect!" Christine exclaimed as she lifted another plastic tub full of lights off of the back of Meg's husband's pickup truck.

"No problem," Meg grunted as she slid the last one off the truck.

There was around fifteen tubs of lights spread out around her backyard. Meg was a _miracle_ worker.

"Do you need me to help put them up, Chris?" Meg asked, brushing off her jeans.

"That'd be great—"

_Brrrring! Brrrring!_

"Oh, hold on a second, that's my phone," Meg pulled it out of her pocket and glanced down at the number. "Yeah, I've gotta take this, I'll be right back…Hello? Meg Giry here…"

Christine laughed under her breath and shook her head. Meg had gotten married earlier in the year and still tended to forget to say her new last name, but she figured that more people knew her by Giry anyway. Christine put her hands on her hips as she looked at the boxes in front of her, trying to decide where to start. She pried the lid off of the littlest box to see what was in there—

A laser light.

Wonderful.

Christine sighed and put the lid back on before setting it off to the side. She would _not_ be using that one. She reached for the next one….a tangled mess of white, icicle lights. Christine cocked her head before setting it off to start a different pile. She would use them, but she'd have to untangle them first and she wasn't looking forward to that. The next few boxes were full of more traditional decorations like garland, plastic candy canes, and more strands of lights. She lifted one of the candy canes out to see if there was a way to make them light up—

"Christine- I have terrible news," Meg said as she rounded the corner back to Christine.

Christine set down the candy cane and looked up at her. "What's wrong? Is someone hurt?"

Meg shook her head, lips pursed. "No. Lisa Hardy— you know the church pianist — said that she won't be able to play piano for your song at the Nutcracker! I don't know what to do…where am I going to find another pianist who is up to her caliber in time?!"

Christine stood up. "I don't really know of any pianist around here that would be ready in three days…I guess I just won't sing?" Christine suggested, a smile tugging at her lips.

"No- I brought you these lights, you are singing!" Meg said, wagging her finger around. "If you think of anyone will you let me know? I'll call around, but I doubt I'll find anyone with this late of notice."

Christine placed her hand on Meg's shoulder. "How about you just head on home and look for someone to play the piano, I'll be fine on my own."

Meg looked at her with big, round eyes. "Really?"

"Really."

Meg hesitated and then nodded before leaning in and giving her a quick hug. "Thanks, I'll see you Saturday."

Christine was the first to let go. "Yeah, see you then!"

Meg hurried back to the front of the truck to drive off but not before calling back a loud: "Practice!"

And then she was gone.

Christine decided to start with the tangled lights. She pulled out the huge bundle of lights and put them on the ground before sitting down next to them, her back to the road. She found one end and attempted to untangle it from there, winding in and out of the other strands and cords.

_….Whistle while you work, Christine…._

_…Practice…._

_…Only three days away…_

Her mind was terrorizing her with the guilty thoughts of not practicing at all yet. She had too much to do! But…this was important to Meg….and she had this entire bundle of lights to work through…she could multi-task….

Christine sat up a bit straighter before taking a breath and starting, very quietly at first. " _O holy night the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of our dear savior's birth…._ "

 _Not so bad_ , Christine thought to herself as she continued on with her light cord puzzle, singing through the entirety of the song.

She hadn't even made a dent on the tangled mess.

Christine shrugged. _What will a second time through hurt?_

So she started singing through it for the second time.

" _Oh night….divine…oh night. Oh night divine…._ " Christine let her voice fade off, shutting her eyes for a moment.

And then they flew right back open.

Someone was applauding behind her.

"You didn't tell me you could sing," an almost gentle voice said.

She knew that voice anywhere.

Christine's eyes went wide and she whipped her head around.

All in black with his mask still on, stood Erik, leaning up against her light covered tree.

"How long have you been here?" Christine said, blush rising to her cheeks.

"Long enough to know that your voice is," he blew out a breath of air, shaking his head, "exquisite."

Christine glanced down, suddenly shy and speechless. She hadn't received that type of compliment since she had dropped out of voice school. "Thanks."

He was acting different, almost _kind_.

"It needs some help though. There are times when you run out of air too soon and others where you're over supporting, not to mention you went a bit flat on that last note," Erik said, uncrossing his arms, but not moving forward.

There was the Erik she knew.

Christine rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to take that into consideration, but let's leave the music to the expert, shall we?" she said, standing up.

"Masters degree in music theory and composition and a double major in voice and piano. I know my shit, thank you," Erik retorted, a confident smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eye.

Christine was speechless….for the second time that day.

"Oh...well….you still don't have any right coming over here and spying on my Christmas light plans. That's against the rules. You should be worrying about your own lights," Christine said, looking down, a slight shake in her voice.

"I'm not spying, I heard singing and I came to investigate. Also, I wasn't aware there was any rules to this game—"

"This is a game to you, is it?" Christine replied, her strength slowly returning to her voice. "Christmas lights are not some game. They are an art form!"

Christine could have sworn she saw his mouth turn up in a half smile.

"Okay, it's not a game, but your voice still needs help. You need a coach."

Christine was the one to step forward this time. "And where do you suggest I find one?"

"Across the street."

All right, she had to admit, she had walked right into that one.

"Ask you for help? I don't think so," Christine said, turning to go back to her light bundle.

"I have a piano in the front room. Twenty minutes, that's all and then we can go back to being rivals."

Christine looked him in the eye. He didn't seem to be lying, but one could never be too careful...then again, she was only across the street if something went wrong. What could really go that wrong in twenty minutes?

"I don't know why I keep making deals with you…" Christine said under her breath as she walked past him over to his house. Erik was right on her heels. He unlocked and opened his front door and motioned for her to go in first.

Whatever Christine had been expecting this was not it.

Grey walls and dark hardwood floor and floor length black curtains with move-in boxes piled up everywhere. A large grand piano sat in the middle of the room, off to the right of the entryway but one thing stuck out to her.

There were no decorations. At all.

No garland, no lights, no _Christmas tree_ ….

Christine looked around. His house was _empty_. The only furniture she could see, besides the piano, was a recliner positioned near the fireplace. For someone who had gone overboard outside, the inside of his house was seriously lacking—

"Have you warmed up today?"

Christine blinked and stepped back into reality.

"Uh…no, not today," she said quietly as he took his place at the piano.

She walked closer to it so that she could almost lean against it if she so desired.

Erik tsked his tongue before hovering his hands above the keys. "Then we will start in C major, one octave, on an ooh. And..begin."

Christine sung through at least ten different warm up exercises, each one stretching her voice higher and higher up the scale. She hadn't sung this high in ages! She looked at Erik for approval that she was doing all right (why she wasn't sure) only to find him staring straight ahead, his fingers still busily playing the exercise.

Christine stopped singing and laid a hand on the piano. "I think I'm warmed up now."

Erik stopped, but didn't say anything. Slowly he nodded and then checked his watch. "Right, of course you are. We have ten minutes. What was the song you were singing outside?" Erik finally said, looking her in the eye.

Christine went to reply but stopped. His eyes looked different, almost softer.

"O Holy Night. I'm singing it at The Nutcracker this Saturday. You know, the local ballet studio downtown is putting it on…"

Erik hummed and nodded before turning back to the keys. "Ready?" he asked. However, he didn't wait for her answer, he just began playing.

Christine felt her mouth open as he played the starting arpeggios. She couldn't remember hearing anyone play the piano so beautifully in her life. She had to concentrate on not getting sucked into the music so that she knew when to start singing.

She hadn't even told him what key she sang it in.

He just _knew_.

" _For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn…_ " Christine sang out, her eyes focused on the wall in front of her. But when she reached the next verse, a voice joined in with her. The most surreal, deep, enchanting voice joined in with her.

Christine felt her knees go weak.

She thought his piano playing was amazing…it was absolute _trash_ compared to his voice….

Christine gripped the edge of the piano, her voice faltering for only a second. Why would someone with such a beautiful talent hide? What reason did he have? Was he a criminal? Was he some foreign pop star that was trying to hide his identity? An axe-murderer with a music degree? Student loans had to be paid off _somehow_ , but...

_No, he's too good for that…_

But still, she needed to know. _Needed_ to see what he was hiding. _Needed_ to know who the voice truly belonged to.

" _Oh hear the angel voices!_ "

Christine felt her hands take ahold of the mask before her brain had even given the order to.

And then it clattered to the ground.

And then the whole world seemed to go silent.

Erik's hands shot up to cover his face and he turned his body away from her. But not quick enough. She had enough time to see what was under the mask.

She felt as if she was going to be sick.

Twisted veins and hollow areas made up his face, and his eye sockets were deeper than they should have been and his nose—

Well there wasn't much she could say about it because it _wasn't there_.

_He didn't have a nose._

How could he not have a nose?

"I, I am so sorry," Christine blurted out, her hand coming up to cover her heart. "I don't know what got into me….I was just in the moment and your singing was just so—"

"Get out," Erik whispered, his voice harsh. "Get out of this house." His voice was like ice: cold and distant.

"Erik, I—" Christine said, picking up his mask in an attempt to fix things.

"I said get out!" Erik roared, turning back around, his eyes burning with a rage she had never seen before, and then he ripped the mask out of her grasp.

Christine gasped and backed up all the way to his front door. She hadn't planned on taking his mask off. She wasn't usually like that! She had never been bold in her life, and she certainly wasn't the type to invade someone's privacy like that! But she hadn't been in control. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she...and she….

She opened the front door and stepped out, shutting the door behind her with a _click_.

She felt like crying.

She was still in shock at what she had seen. How did he breathe? Was it painful? Had he been in a fire? Was he born like that? But without a doubt, the most vivd image in her mind was his eyes, burning yellow at her from his deep eye sockets.

She was sure that image alone would haunt her nightmares for weeks.

She had to make it up to him. Had to tell him how sorry she was, how utterly embarrassed she was that she would act that way—

Next thing she knew she had her phone out and was dialing Meg's number.

"You've reached the voice mail box of Mrs. Megan Giry— oops, I mean Baker…leave your name, number, and message after the tone!" Meg's recorded voice rattled off.

Christine took a deep breath. With one last look behind her at Erik's curtained off windows, she walked off his porch and back across the street to where her house was waiting for her.

She had so much to do.

_Beeep._

"Hey Meg, it's Christine. I think I found you a pianist…"

* * *

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Christine popped up from her stool that she was sitting on in her kitchen to stop the timer on her oven. She was trying yet _another_ way to earn Erik's forgiveness: baking him cookies.

With the luck she had these days, he'd be allergic to gluten.

She pulled them out of the oven and set them on her stove before pulling off her oven mitts. She had tried twice the previous day to approach him and tell him how sorry she was. How utterly, terribly, miserably embarrassed she felt. To think, of all the horrible things she could've done, she'd picked the worst- and it wasn't even a conscious decision.

Christine started prying the cookies off of her baking sheet and tossing them into a tupperware container that had little reindeer decorating the outside. Hopefully Erik wouldn't laugh at it…or maybe he would, and that'd be fine too, as long as he accepted her apology, she didn't really care. She finished putting them all in and turned around to get the lid—

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Christine looked over her shoulder towards the window in her kitchen that looked out on the front yard. She didn't see any car in her driveway, so it wasn't the mail, and surely Meg hadn't _walked_ to her house. She pressed the lid down on the cookie container and hurried to her front door, sliding a bit in her socks. She opened it, peaking her head around the corner of it first.

"Erik?"

She quickly unlocked the storm door that was between her front door and him, her mouth already running a mile a minute.

"Let me just say again, I am _so_ sorry about yesterday. I don't know what got into me, and I shouldn't have ever touched it. I, uh, baked you cookies, and I hope you aren't allergic—"

"What is the meaning of this?" Erik cut her off, holding up an iPhone.

Christine shook her head. "I don't know, it just looks like a phone to me—"

"I get a call at ten this morning about playing the piano at _The Nutcracker_. Let's see, I only know one person in this whole town who is involved with it and she just happens to know I play the piano. I wonder who that could be," Erik snapped, his voice quieter than she expected. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't realize it was you?"

Christine pushed a baby hair out of her face as she watched Erik's grip around the phone tighten.

"I was trying to make it up to you for taking your mask off," Christine said, noting that the mask was securely back on his face. _Thank goodness._ "We didn't have a pianist and you're amazing and I thought maybe you'd appreciate getting the opportunity to play, and it's only for the one song I sing, and—"

"You thought wrong."

Christine physically felt the air outside get colder.

She swallowed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. You don't have to agree to it, _really_."

_Maybe I won't have to sing then…_

Yet, Erik didn't leave. He remained standing in front of her, his jaw clenched.

"You still need training," he said the words slowly, as if it took every fibre of his being to produce them.

Christine opened her mouth, a snippy response about the fact that she already had plenty of 'training' ready to fire, but she kept it to herself.

"I…I would appreciate that," she said instead.

Erik nodded and put the phone back in his pocket.

"I understand if you don't want to do it yourself after what I did. That would be…too kind of you," Christine added, afraid of assuming anything too quickly.

"No," Erik said as soon as Christine finished her sentence, the fire returning to his eyes. "No one else could treat it right, or give it the attention it deserves—"

"Hold on, you're talking as if my voice is some piece of renaissance art. I just sing for fun now, it's nothing to fuss over, really," Christine stopped him with a nervous chuckle. He really needed to stop comparing her voice to all these wonderful things. She was mediocre at best, in her opinion.

"You need to practice with the correct accompanist, don't you? Might as well start now."

Christine blinked. "Did I hear you right? Did you just say you'd play the piano?"

"If you'll sing for me again," Erik said, his mood appearing to have brightened. Well, as much as his mood could brighten.

Christine glanced down at her polka dot socks, unsure of how to answer.

_Do it for Meg…for the Nutcracker's sake…for him, you pulled off his mask for gosh sake, you owe it to the poor guy….._

"Okay, I'll sing."

Before she knew it, she was following him back to his house— _with_ shoes on and the oven turned off, thank you very much.

Somehow, Erik had invited her back into his home, which Christine was grateful, yet worried about. She didn't enjoy being reminded of the previous day's events, but if Erik was willing to let her take advantage of his piano talents, she was willing to overlook the awkwardness. The time seemed to fly by as he played the piano and she sang. She had only performed her song a few times with him this "session", and already he was reminding her of the teachers that she had hated back at college.

 _Do this…don't do that…stand up straighter…don't breathe like that, breathe like this…open your mouth…are you sure you warmed up…do it again…you drank_ what _today?_

The list could go on forever and she had only been at his house for thirty minutes.

"Christine, for the last time, stop raising your head to hit that note. You don't have to, it's exerting your energy—"

"Okay," Christine half groaned, getting a bit tired of his comments.

But as long as he didn't mention still being mad at her about the mask and he played piano at the Nutcracker, she would endure it. So she sang it again, this time _not_ tilting her head up on that _one_ note.

The definition of perfectionist was a picture of him. She was sure of it.

"Erik, I think I'll be fine for Saturday. It's just for a bunch of parents and their kids who aren't even listening anyway," Christine said, fed up with his constant nit-picking.

Erik lifted his gaze from the piano keys to look at her. "You can't just be _fine_. You have to be perfect. You'll impress them all, of course you will, but isn't it so much better when you know you're doing your best? Giving it everything and knowing that there is no way that you could do it better?" Erik argued, his eyes looking almost devastated that she would even suggest performing anything that wasn't up to his standards.

"I'm sure that I could do that and you'd still find something to criticize. I'll strive to be perfect when the Met calls and offers me a job. Until then…" Christine shrugged to punctuate her statement.

Erik on the other hand, huffed. "Well, I see you can't take everything as seriously as you take your silly, little lights."

Christine's eyes narrowed. "My silly, little lights? Have you taken a good look at your own? Now I'm sorry about invading your privacy yesterday, but don't think that I'm going to let you win in an attempt to make things up to you. No, no, no," Christine stated, her finger waving in the air. "You can have your music, but these lights are the only thing I have going for me. You don't understand—"

"Fine, you don't want my help, then I won't give it," Erik seethed, standing up from the piano bench to tower over her. "Just run back across the street like you always do. Run back and keep playing your stupid game. That's all this ever has been or will be, Christine, _a game_."

They stood in silence, a heavy layer of tension and anger bearing down on them. Christine was the first to move, snatching her keys off of the top of the piano. She turned around and walked right to the front door, opening it wide.

"You know, I tried to be nice, I really did, but no mercy will be shown now," Christine said as she looked over her shoulder back at the man who was still standing by the piano. "My lights are ready and I'm not waiting until the twenty-fourth to show you up. It's time you get on my level, _Destler_."

And with that warning, she walked out the door.

* * *

Christine stood outside in her winter coat, the temperature getting gradually and gradually colder. Her brain was still filled with bad memories of earlier in the day, but she couldn't let that distract her now. She had lights to focus on. She had turned on her lights before Erik had had the chance to; one, to make sure the new ones worked, and two, so that everyone could see the brilliance of her lights before they could see Erik's.

Not that his were better than her lights…she hoped.

He hadn't lit his house up since Sunday evening and she kept seeing new decorations in the yard and to tell the truth, it scared her. But her lights had to be better. She was sure of it.

_Voom._

Christine turned around at the electrical sound of her neighbor's lights flipping on.

_Oh…._

Christine didn't even know where to start with dissecting his new decorations. His house looked like Christmas had thrown up all over it. Lights that blinked, Christmas figures that waved and a tunnel, _a tunnel_ of flashing lights leading up to his front door.

Christine was impressed.

But she had new lights too.

With a smirk she plugged the two ends of the extension cord she held in her hands together and watched as more of her house lit up with brilliant blue and white lights draped down the siding of her house along with the rest of the decorations in her yard. Snowmen figures, Christmas trees made of light strands, the nativity, row of candy canes and snowflakes and even Mrs. Valerius' giant Santa Claus figure (that looked a bit more orange than red, but Christine wasn't going to be picky).

Christine smiled triumphantly, proud of her work. She marveled at the display in front of her, her back turned to the mess of lights across the street.

Then she heard it.

The starting chords of _Trepak_ coming from very loud speakers….across the street.

Slowly, Christine looked behind her only to see all the lights on Erik's house blinking and flashing along to the song, timed perfectly.

_Every, single light._

Christine looked on, her mouth falling into an 'o' shape as she observed the spectacle before her.

She felt the hot tears rolling down her cheeks before she realized she was crying.

Why couldn't she have anything in life?

With her lip quivering and her teeth chattering, she gripped the extension cords in her hands and unplugged them, letting them drop to the ground. She staggered backwards a few steps before giving up and going inside her house, slamming the door shut behind her. She found the outlet that her light timer was plugged into and unplugged it, throwing it on the floor before following suit and crumpling down on the floor beside it. Her tears seemed to come out faster. Her angry, blazing, white hot tears.

Lights were her life. She spent all year planning for one month. One too-short, ridiculous, busy, crazy month. And for what? To watch her neighbor rip her happiness away from her with a bunch of lights that bobbed up and down to music?

 _Let him, they aren't making me happy anymore anyway….._ Christine thought as she peered through her window at his lights, mocking her with their happy blinking. _What a crummy day…._

She tore her eyes away from the window and buried her face in her knees, letting her tears flow freely.

* * *

"Chris! There you are, I've been looking for you all over the place," Meg chirped as she hurried over to the spot where Christine was sitting (a stool by the water fountain because it was the only place in the whole auditorium she could find without little kids running around everywhere) as her victorian-looking, purple dress for the party scene billowed behind her.

Christine glanced up from her hands. "Oh, sorry, I was just trying to get my head together. You know, so I don't forget the words or anything…" She meant for the words to come out nonchalant but they ended up sounding just about as depressed as she felt.

Meg put her hands on her hips, looking very much like her mother. "You're not going to forget the words, now come on." Meg took Christine by the elbow, coaxing her off the stool. "We have a bigger problem to worry with."

"What? Did the sugar plum fairy get a cavity or something?" Christine joked as she walked down the hallway with Meg.

"No, you're pianist guy still isn't here and we open the curtain in ten minutes. Ten minutes, Christine! You're just going to have to sing it a-cappella if he doesn't show."

Christine gave an unenthusiastic laugh. "Believe me, I'd much rather sing it like that anyway."

Meg shook her head as they continued walking towards the stage, arm in arm. "Christine, no matter what happens, whether he shows up or not, please just put on a happy face. I know you're mad about your lights, but _lighten_ up for a few minutes. These people are here to smile," Meg tried to encourage as they neared the stage. The curtain was closed and the stage was empty all but a microphone on a stand and a piano sitting in the back corner.

"Meg—"

She shook her head. "I have to go check on my dancers. Just stay here and think of an opening speech and your song until I come back all right?" Meg locked eyes with her friend, waiting for her approval.

Slowly, Christine nodded. "Okay, I'll stay here."

Meg gave her a big smile and then left her standing alone on the stage. Christine smoothed out the wrinkles of her emerald dress, trying to think of what she was going to say when the curtain opened, but all she could think about were Erik's musical lights. She had spent the last two nights, miserably watching them go through a playlist of songs, bouncing color everywhere. She had been a fool to ever accept his challenge. Been a fool to confront him in the first place—

"You'll have to forgive me for being late, parking was…atrocious."

Christine froze.

"You came?" The voice that escaped her lips didn't sound like her, it was a different person entirely. Gone was the lighthearted competitive Christine and in it's place some unfamiliar, distant copy of her.

At least in her opinion.

"Of course I came, I agreed to it didn't I?" Erik said as Christine turned towards him.

He was in a tux, standing by the piano. His hands were clasped in front of him and he looked all the world like a famous conductor, waiting for his orchestra. He looked almost dashing, with his hair combed back instead of hanging over the edge of his mask.

Christine swallowed but didn't comment.

"Did your power go out?" Erik asked suddenly.

Christine blinked. "What?"

Erik looked at his shoes and then back at her. "Did your power go out? Your lights haven't been on at night and I was wondering—"

"No," Christine cut him off a bit too soon, a sharp edge to her voice. "No, it didn't."

Erik ran a hand through his hair, looking down. "Oh."

"I turned them off because how could they ever compare to your house?" Christine felt the tears start welling up in her eyes again against her will.

_Great._

"You shouldn't have done that," Erik said, meeting her eyes.

"Really?" Christine cut him off again, not giving him the chance to finish. "I figured you'd be happy. You won. _Congratulations_." Sarcasm dripped from her voice as her eyes narrowed.

Erik opened his mouth and reached his hand forward towards her. "Christine—"

"Erik Destler! My goodness, you came! Just in time, too. Mark is about to open the curtains," Meg came scurrying on to the stage, a delighted smile on her face. "Christine, get to the microphone, and you to the piano! Shoo, shoo! It's time to start!"

Meg flicked her hands towards them and then ran back offstage, most likely to get the little ones in their correct spots to come in.

Christine stared at Erik a moment longer before making her way over to the microphone, right as the curtain split in half and the bright stage lights bombarded Christine's eyesight. She squinted slightly, casting her gaze downward.

"Um…hello, and welcome to The Nutcracker," Christine said, putting on the fake-est smile she could conjure, hoping with all her heart it looked genuine, as the crowd applauded. "I would like to start your evening off with a song. This year, 'O Holy Night'…" she trailed off as she looked over her shoulder and gave Erik a nod, avoiding his eyes.

The piano started, the music rising and filling the auditorium with its beautiful sound.

Emotions and memories flooded Christine from the first time she had heard him play. Her knees felt weak and she gripped the microphone stand for dear life. It was as if all her sadness and burdens were being lifted away by his very playing. She knew that couldn't be true, but she was willing to believe it.

If only even for a moment.

With a real smile, Christine began to sing. The words came out easily, and the notes never sounded better. Much to her dismay, she _did_ have Erik to thank for that.

She finished the song, her heart soaring. The applause began to overtake the sustained last chord on the piano and the curtain closed leaving Christine and Erik alone behind it. Her eyes were shut and she didn't notice that Erik had gotten up until she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"You were wonderful."

Christine looked up at him and then at his hand. "Only because of you. If it wasn't for you pushing me to do my best, I wouldn't have sounded as good. Now if you'll excuse me…" Christine said, removing his hand from her shoulder and walking off into the wings as a stagehand came on the stage to remove the mic stand and wheel off the piano.

"Christine, wait!" Erik called out, following her off stage. "Just hold on for a minute."

Christine stopped and turned around when they were both well away from the main part of the stage, now somewhere backstage, a darkened corner under a stairwell.

"I'm sorry," Erik said as Christine finally acknowledged his presence.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, now go enjoy the ballet," Christine snapped, her voice betraying her heart's happiness from her performance.

"Actually, there's a Christmas light festival in the park I was planning on going to. Surely you know about it?"

Knew about it? Of course she knew about it! A giant, beautiful Christmas light festival was held every December, for the last two weeks of the month in the local park. It had started before she had moved there. She remembered her father taking her there on the rare occasion they had the money to travel away from their 'home' as a child. To say it was magical was an understatement.

"Yes, I know about it," Christine answered back, her voice still cold but a smile tugging on her lips at the memories she had of the lights in the park.

"Well, maybe you'd like to….come with me?" His voice shook a little, as if the words didn't know how to come out right.

Christine looked at him.

The answer was no. It had to be no, was supposed to be no. _No_ she couldn't come with him. _No_ because he had crushed her spirit and broken her Christmas-light loving heart. Yet—

She had never seen his eyes looks so desperate, nor his voice sound so vulnerable. Those eyes that seemed to express more than anyone else's she had ever seen…

She shouldn't. He was a stranger and she had rode over with Meg and—

He reached his hand out towards her and the answer became clear.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

* * *

"Does it ever snow here?" Erik's voice broke the silence that had lasted their entire car ride over to the park.

Christine stuffed her hands in her coat pocket. "Not really. It gets cold, but snow always seems to skirt around this town. It might flurry, maybe, if you're lucky…wow," Christine's mood seemed to change as they walked through the entrance of the park.

Lights were arranged to make a doorway at the start of the walking path, casting a bright, rainbow glow on everyone who walked under it. Trees were covered in lights, all a different color, and lamp posts were wrapped in dazzling white lights and topped with a wreath at the top of each one. However, nothing was over the top. It was all simple and beautiful.

_Just the way it should be._

They walked through the whole light display, both of them occasionally commenting on something particularly awesome…or strange. A gust of wind whooshed around them, blowing the branches of the trees and shaking the lights. They both shivered, but kept walking. It was a few minutes before either of them noticed that they stood closer than strangers, or friends for that matter should stand.

It took even longer for Christine to notice that Erik's arm was draped around her shoulder, tucked safely away from the wind by his side.

And when she did? Christine chose not to say anything, enjoying the warmth that the nearness brought.

"Let's sit down for a minute, I don't think I can walk any longer!" Christine suggested as she smiled up at Erik, throughly enjoying herself their _third_ time walking through the light display.

"There's a bench over there." Erik nodded and unwrapped his arm from around her shoulders, leading them over to the closest bench. They both sat, a little out of breath, the wind still whipping around them.

"When I was little I always dreamed of being the director of this festival," Christine said, looking over at Erik, unsure of what had made her say that. It just felt like the time to say it.

"Then why aren't you? You're very driven, and God knows you've got the imagination for it. Not to mention the guts," Erik chuckled, bumping her in the side with his elbow.

Christine smiled and shrugged. "I just never have the time and then I get so engrossed in my own lights that I just lose focus of other things this time of year. It just slips my mind every year to look into it, I guess."

"I think you should do it," Erik said, looking down at her. Christine scrunched her face up, ready to reply, but Erik beat her to it. "I'm serious, you'd be perfect."

Christine shook her head. "No, I'm not nearly that coordinated or organized, but….you are," she said, meeting his eyes. They looked sadder now, but not angry like she had seen many a time at his front door. "I mean, look at those lights on your own house! Imagine what you could do here!" Christine exclaimed, taking her hands out of her pockets to gesture around them.

Erik didn't reply.

"Why do you decorate like you do?" Erik asked, his eyes never leaving her.

Christine looked down before pushing a blonde curl behind her ear. "It was something me and my Dad always did…it reminds me of him. He…um, he passed away two days after Christmas when I was fourteen and it was the last happy thing we did together before he…well, you know," she paused to collect herself.

"I do it in his memory more than anything I suppose."

And it was true. The lights were never for herself, they were always for her father. Her _daddy_. They brought a magic and warmth to her life that was absent the rest of the year because her father wasn't there to fill that void year-round anymore. Christmas brought that feeling back. She knew that if she really dwelled on it, that Christmas should be the hardest time of year for her, but she forced it to be the happiest because her best memories were at Christmas. Her favorite memories.

Christmas lights just happened to the the object that bridged the gap to her father.

"I, I don't know why I just told you that," Christine said, blinking back tears. "It just came out—"

"You have nothing to apologize for. That's a wonderful reason to put up lights," Erik said, placing a hand on her back in an attempt to comfort her, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

"What about you? Why do you put them up?" Christine asked, leaning her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands.

"I've never really been one for Christmas but...it just...interested me."

Christine sat up straighter when he didn't continue. "That's all? It just _interested_ you?"

He shrugged. "It's not as sentimental as your story."

Christine cocked her head. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to."

Christine pursed her lips and then leaned back against the bench. Silence encased them as they sat on the bench; Christine watching other people hurry by and Erik watching her.

"Maybe this whole competition thing was a stupid idea," Erik whispered, making Christine turn her head towards him.

"Yeah, maybe it was," Christine admitted, her voice softer, mirroring Erik's tone.

"Should we call it a tie?" he suggested leaning closer.

Christine followed suit. "Sounds fine to me."

It was questionable as to who closed the distance first— was it her, was it Erik, was it the wind…perhaps Christmas spirit itself? Whatever the reason, it was undeniable that she was kissing Erik Destler and he was kissing her back.

Enthusiastically.

Christine pulled back, nearly at the same time Erik did, her eyes wide. What in the world had she just done? She barely knew him! Did that make her a hussy? She had only ever kissed anybody on the lips twice in her life. Once it was a drunken accident with her friend Raoul and the other time with her ex-boyfriend. Neither time really filled her with the desire to do it again, and she wasn't one for impulse decisions.

But in that quick moment, it had felt right. Just like it had felt right telling Erik about her father and why she loved Christmas lights.

She looked at Erik.

His eyes expressed a similar reaction.

"I…um…I'll drive you back to the theatre," Erik said quickly, not meeting her eyes.

Christine closed her mouth and nodded.

"I think that'd be best…yeah…"

And thus started the most awkward car ride of her entire life.

* * *

Clouds had rolled in the next day, blocking the moon and stars from illuminating the night sky. Christine sat by her Christmas tree, staring at the house across the street. She had just finished wrapping her final gift, ready to take it to Meg's Christmas party the next day, but she felt empty.

Christmas Eve, her favorite day of the entire year, and she felt cold and lonely.

Christine rolled the remaining wrapping paper back on the roll and propped it up against the wall before sitting back on the floor by her Christmas tree. All she could think about all day long was last night's kiss. Why had she done it? Why had he done it? Was he happy? Was _she_ happy?

She wished she knew the answer.

Erik had yet to turn his lights on, a bit late for him, but maybe he was preoccupied with other thoughts as well.

She had been so sure that she hated her neighbor. Positive. Until he had sung for her. Until he had agreed to play piano. Until he had taken her to her favorite light display. Until he had kissed her.

Or maybe she had kissed him.

Her fingertips rose to rest on her lips, remembering the brief moment.

She needed to talk to him, needed to see him again and confront whatever was going on between them. Two rivals that just got lost in the moment? She didn't know. Maybe he knew because she certainly couldn't figure it out. His lights flipped on, but they didn't blink along to music this time. Instead, they just sat there, peacefully shining in the night.

Perhaps that's what it was. A peace offering.

The lights not flashing to music she meant of course…

She knew what she had to do.

She picked herself up off the floor and walked over to where her light timer was still laying on the floor. She picked it up and looked at it for a minute before plugging it back in, turning her lights back on. She smiled. Yes, she was doing the right thing.

She snatched her winter coat off of the chair she had draped it over and made her way outside. She found the extension cords still in the spot she had dropped them and plugged them back together, finishing off her lights display.

_Beautiful…this is Christmas….._

Christine looked behind her towards Erik's house. His lights were on so he had to be home.

_Do it, you might not have the courage to later, Christine…_

With a determined nod, Christine set off across the street to his front door. She walked through his tunnel of lights until she reached the door.

_Knock, knock—_

The door flew open before she could finish knocking.

"Hey, about last night, I wanted to ask you…" but her voice trailed off as the door finished opening.

Inside the door frame stood a tall, Iranian man with a red bath robe on.

 _Not_ Erik.

"Can I help you, miss…?" The man asked, opening the door a bit wider.

Christine just stood there with wide eyes. Was she at the wrong house? No, she knew good and well she wasn't. Maybe he had invited a friend over? Yes, that was it!

"Christine Daaé, I live across the street," Christine answered back, peeking around the man's shoulders to peer into the house.

"Nice to meet you, then! I'm Nadir Kahn, I'm your new neighbor," he said cheerfully sticking out his hand for her to shake.

Christine froze. New neighbor? Had Erik moved out that quickly? Had the kiss been _that_ bad?

"New neighbor? Did Erik Destler move out then?" Christine asked, a slight shake to her voice.

Nadir gave a hearty laugh. "In a way, I suppose. You're probably happy to be rid of him I'm sure! I purchased this house back in October, but I couldn't get away from work that quick back in New York, so I asked Erik to take care of the house until I could move in today. I asked him to decorate a bit for the holidays since I wouldn't be here to do it myself and I knew he'd _never_ do it unless he had a little persuasion. However, I see he went a bit, uh, overboard…as usual. I can only imagine what the electricity bill is going to be," Nador laughed again, waving his hand towards the lights outside. "You'd think he could've taken the time to decorate _inside_ , or at least unpack some of my boxes for me, but of course not…he probably would've stolen half of my things anyway…You say you live across the street?"

Christine nodded, her brain still processing what he had just told her.

Erik didn't actually live there at all….why hadn't he told her? Things would have been so much more simpler. She wouldn't have gotten involved or attached or…

He hadn't even said good-bye.

"Well, your lights are beautiful, Miss Christine. I'm glad I get to see them every time I look over there! It's like a Christmas village—"

"I'm sorry, to interrupt, but Erik wouldn't happen to still be here would he?" Christine cut him off, wringing her hands in front of her torso.

Nadir paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, he's not here…I remember him saying something about wanting to see the lights in town again before he went back home—"

"I've got to go, but thanks!" Christine quickly said, running from the porch and back to her garage.

Lights in town…he had to have been talking about the lights in the park. She had to find him- she couldn't lose him now! She was only just beginning to figure out what she felt for him, and it wasn't dislike.

If she even had the guts to think it, she might call it love.

She hurriedly grabbed the car keys that were crammed in her jacket pocket and unlocked her car before getting in and backing out of her driveway. She drove off of Meadow Street and kept driving until she saw the glow of the lights from the display. She parked and got out of her car, not even bothering to lock it. A few cars down from her's she saw Erik's black car parked too.

She let out a sigh of relief.

She wasn't too late.

She ran through the entrance, saying sorry to those who she bumped into, looking frantically for Erik. Then she saw the upturned collar of a navy trench coat and a familiar lanky figure sitting on a bench a few feet ahead of her.

The same bench they had sat on the night before.

"Erik!" Christine called, slowing down her run as she approached the bench.

"Christine?" Erik asked, standing up. "What are you doing here?"

Christine shook her head and reached for his hands, holding them in her own. "You didn't tell me that you didn't actually live across the street from me."

"Christine—"

"No, let me talk. I don't care that you don't really live across the street from me. I don't care that you think Christmas lights are a game, I don't care that you wear a mask, I don't care that we called off the competition, I don't care about any of that! I care that I….that I really like you, Erik and I can't let you leave me," Christine didn't dare say what she actually felt like.

Erik squeezed her hands. "I should've told you, Christine—"

But Christine didn't let him finish. She was riding on an emotional high that she hadn't felt in a long time. She grabbed his lapels and pulled him down towards her, kissing him on the lips under the lights.

She _loved_ him. If she was sure about one thing that was it. Loved his competitiveness, loved his flaws, loved his quirks, loved his snarky comments, loved his music, loved his Christmas lights…

She couldn't let him disappear after she had just had the biggest realization of her life.

Slowly, they ended the kiss, staring at each other.

"Erik, I came to find you tonight to say I…I…"

"I love you too, Christine Daaé," Erik finished for her, leaning back in.

Flurries of snow began to fall from the clouds overhead, sticking to their coats as they kissed.

Christine moved her arms to be around his neck as Erik wrapped his own around her waist. "Don't leave, come back with me, we can start over...as friends," Christine whispered, in between kisses.

Erik pulled back. "As friends? You know, after everything I thought we had just moved past the friend stage..."

"Together then. You and me. Come back with me and we'll spend this Christmas together," Christine said before stealing another kiss, another pleasure that her heart yearned for.

She felt Erik smile against her lips before he answered. "And the next one, and the next one..."

And as Christine hugged him close to her, her spirit shining as bright as the Christmas lights around her, she could only think of their Christmases to come…together.


End file.
